


A Prince's Tale

by ScholaroftheArchive



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-10-03 18:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10254467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScholaroftheArchive/pseuds/ScholaroftheArchive
Summary: A collection of 500-word snippets based on moments from FFXV's story. I may include POV's from Prompto, Gladio, Ignis and Luna at a later date.





	1. a moonlight sonata

The soft caresses of the moon’s light, streaming in through the frosty panes of the bedroom window, roused Noctis from his restless slumber.

The unfamiliar, dusty room and the scratchy sheets that clung stubbornly to his upper body only worsened the sense of discomfort that assailed him upon waking. However, Noctis’ fear was quietly quelled with the sound of Gladio’s low snoring across the room and the realization that his painful discomfort was not from his old injury, but from the weight of Prompto sprawled across his legs.

They were at Cape Caem; he was safe;.

Pushing a few unruly strands of hair away from his eyes, Noctis slipped his legs gently out from beneath Prompto's body and sat on the edge of the bed. He waited, for a moment, then slowly rose. His legs throb dully with each step, demanding he return to bed, but Noctis ignored it; instead, moving stiffly towards the bedroom door. As he shoved his muddy boots on, he glanced back at Gladio, Ignis and Prompto. All three were lost to the sweet oblivion of undisturbed sleep.

Sighing, Noctis turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

The run-down house was eerily quiet, but the moon’s ethereal radiance illuminated every corner of that the quiet interior, shining in through the small windows above the door. It sprayed across the kitchen table, casting playful shadows with Talcott’s growing collection of cactuar figures that Noctis smiled weakly at as he swung the front door open and stepped outside.

As Noctis wandered down the hill and to the gleaming sheen of the Regalia, the waves of the ocean, crashing against the rocks far below, faded away. The air was cool, almost bitterly so against his flushed skin; yet, the crisp sea breeze was a blissfully welcomed respite from the lingering heat within the house.

Noctis yawed, stretching his arms above his head, and glanced up at the distant light of the moon as he leaned against the car’s hood. The moon’s light, shimmering across the expanse of the night sky beckoned him to cross the mighty sea.

He was nearly four months late, but tomorrow he would finally sail to Altissia; to the place he was supposed to have been wed; to Luna.

Their meeting had been a long time coming, but that didn’t lessen the guilt and uncertainty that filled him each and every time he thought of her.

Was she okay?

Was she safe?

If only he could speak to her — hear her voice again — to make sure she was unharmed and that she hadn’t been forced into an engagement with him, only then would he truly be at ease.

_Almost there, Luna. I promise._

Nodding to himself, Noctis pushed away from the Regalia’s hood and headed back towards the house, and to his sleeping friends.

And yet, Noctis’ resolve vanished when the accompanying light of the moon was suddenly extinguished behind the gathering dark clouds above, leaving him to walk in the darkness alone.


	2. before the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm positing this on a whim. It hasn't been edited, so please point out any mistakes.

Luna sighed. 

She stood alone, watching the rain splatter noisily against the long windows of her elegant room. Children raced through the narrow streets below her lonely perch, laughing as they darted through puddles on the uneven cobblestones. 

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

The bright Altissian sun had vanished behind the looming, dark clouds above the city, bathing the normally colourful horizon in shades of black, blue and grey: the dark blue of the roaring waves, crashing violently against the gondola boats in a spray of white. 

But the people of Altissia had braved far worse. Storms were a common occurrence here in Altissia, especially late in the summer. Sailors and fishermen alike believed it was the convergence of warm and cold sea in Altissia’s Bay that brewed such storms. ‘Twas the belief in the city, and with such a diverse and bountiful supply of fresh fish, it was an easy one to believe wholeheartedly. 

Yet, the Altissian storms could not simply be the effects of converging water currents. No, Luna owed the current storm to the slumbering Hydrean beneath its waters.  

The soft patter of paw prints alerted Luna to movement behind her. Her hand, resting over her racing heart, clenched involuntarily at the sight of Umbra and her beloved notebook. 

Noctis. 

Kneeling down to Umbra, Luna retrieved the red, leather-bound notebook and flipped open to the newest entry. She smiled, her slender finger tracing the familiar slant of Noctis’ messy handwriting: 

_I’ve received the blessing. Thank you, Luna._

It was a quick scrawl, unevenly written across the page, but her name was etched into the yellowing parchment of their notebook with soft, rounded curves. 

A breath of air rushed out from her. 

He was okay. He was safe. 

A single tear threatened to fall as Luna gently shut the book and brought it up to her face. Umbra whined, brushing his wet nose against Luna’s bare shoulder.

Smiling weakly, Luna patted Umbra once before standing and moving toward the window; the notebook cradled in her arms.

When she had given Noctis the notebook, she had done so with the hope that they may be able to keep in contact when he finally recovered and left Tenebrae. As the Princess of Tenebrae and the future Oracle, Luna’s early childhood had been spent — more or less — in preparation of those two roles, leaving her often at the tutelage of people far older than herself. 

But, with the arrival of Noctis, that had all changed.

_You’ll watch over the Prince, won’t you, Lunafreya?_

She had, at her own request, been officially tasked with watching and caring for the Prince of Lucis, but it was her own longing for a companion that made her to befriend her young charge.

So, instead of dusty tomes filled with the complex etymology of the Astrals, Luna had sat laughing in sylleblossom fields, making flower crowns with a shy, yet sweet and gentle boy. 

Until Niflheim.

In a single afternoon, Luna had lost everything: her home, her mother, her best (and only) friend, her freedom and, in a sad way, her dear brother. 

After Tenebrae’s Fall, Ravus never smiled again. 

The ex-Prince of Tenebrae’s resentment towards King Regis had only festered and Luna, for all her desperate attempts, had been unable to make him understand that his resentment was misplaced. 

No, if anything, her fervent defence of the Lucian Royals had only enraged Ravus further. Ravus left for Grelae, leaving Luna alone and at the mercy of Niflheim’s stationed commander.

Under Niflheim’s rule, writing to anyone from the outside world was considered an act of defiance, punishable by death, yet writing to Noctis was the balm Luna needed for the long years of isolation. A terribly long isolation, which, under the guise of a divine calling for ‘secluded prayer,’ had prevailed until her Ascension as Oracle. 

The conditions of her isolation may have changed somewhat, but not the cause; Niflheim ruled its subjects with an iron fist and the lovely Lady Lunafreya of Tenebrae was no exception. So, between her meetings with those inflicted with the Scourge and her secret correspondence with Noctis, Luna had lived most of her life in complete solitude. But as her public reverence grew, so did her and Noctis’ friendship.

Luna did not need to look across the room to where a mirror hung to see the redness on her cheeks. She could feel the warmth radiating off them at the mere thought of Noctis. 

It had been by accident, of course. She had been snooping around Ravus’ private chambers when a cut out news clipping of the Lucian royals caught her eye. 

For the sweet boy from her youth had grown into a handsome young man.

She had told him as much in one of her entires, and Noctis had simply return the notebook with an old, faded photo of herself and a single sentence: 

_You were always beautiful, Luna._

His handwriting, she had learned then, was just as expressive as his blue eyes had been as a child. It seemed a distant memory now, but Noctis’ eyes had always revealed more than any words. 

Even on such lonely days as these, each day brought her closer to Noctis, to being with him once again. The notebook that tethered them contained only promises, written in secret, of what could be, what they could be, what they wanted for each other.

 Yet, the object, concealed in the small pocket of her white dress, weigh heavily; a constant reminder that, despite all her prayers, she and Noctis would only ever have a moment of borrowed time.

The Astrals would have their due. And Luna would pay the price. She could only hope that Noctis would one day forgive her. 

Luna’s grip on the notebook tightened. 


End file.
